


Misplaced Property

by badly_knitted



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, Confusion, Exhaustion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 17:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6160960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/pseuds/badly_knitted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto’s morning hasn’t got off to a very good start, and he’s sure he knows who’s to blame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misplaced Property

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my own prompt ‘Any, any. "Why the hell can't I ever find it when I want it? I swear it wanders off when I'm not looking!",’ at fic_promptly.

"Why the hell can't I ever find it when I want it? I swear it wanders off when I'm not looking!" Ianto muttered to himself as he moved the cushions on the sofa, peering underneath them and then down the back. “I know it was here just yesterday. If Jack’s gone and moved it again, I swear I’ll kill him this time. Leaves everything all over the place, never puts his clothes in the laundry basket, leaves the ice cream out… Bloody idiot! Who leaves ice cream lying around to melt? Bloody Jack, that’s who. But when I leave something where I know I’ll be able to find it when I need it, he has to go and move it!” 

Still muttering under his breath, Ianto got down on hands and knees, trying to see under the sofa without moving it. “Nothing! Damn it all!” He stood up, brushing off his trousers, and scanned the room. “Where would I put it if I was Jack? Stupid question. He never puts things in the right place anyway, probably put it in the fridge or something. Should I check the fridge?”

Standing in the doorway, Jack watched Ianto searching the living room, muttering to himself all the time.

“Morning, Tiger. Lose something?”

“As if you didn’t know! It’s your fault I lost it. And don’t call me Tiger!”

“Whoa, down boy! I was only trying to help!”

“Fine! Great! So tell me where you put my bluetooth earpiece! I left it right there last night and now it’s gone!” Ianto pointed at the end table beside the sofa.

“I didn’t put it anywhere, it’s in your ear.”

Ianto put his hand up to his ear and pulled off his earpiece, looking at it.

“Oh.” Damn it, now he remembered. He’d picked it up on his way through the living room to turn the TV on for the morning news, before going to the kitchen to make coffee. “Um, sorry, just forget I said anything, okay?”

“Already forgotten. Y’know, considering how little sleep you’ve had over the last week, it’s really not surprising that you’re a little forgetful. Maybe you should take the day off and go back to bed.”

“Can’t, there’s still clean-up to do from last night’s little fracas.”

“Nothing the rest of us can’t handle. Ianto, you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty, keeping the rest of us going over the last few days. You’re way overdue a break, so don’t argue. Get some rest, I’ll come over this evening with dinner.”

“Chinese?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“Okay then, it’s a deal. Just one question; if you were going to give me the day off, why didn’t you tell me before I got out of bed?”

“I tried, but I don’t think you were listening. I suppose I could’ve tackled you and dragged you back to bed, but I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

Ianto frowned. “Right. Thanks. I think.”

“And anyway, you’re cute when you’re wandering around, talking to yourself.” Jack leant in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you tonight, get some sleep.”

“Gladly.” Ianto smirked tiredly as Jack headed towards the door, then Jack’s final comment registered. “Wait a minute, what d’you mean, ‘talking to myself’?” he called to Jack’s retreating back, but there was no reply, the door closed and Ianto was alone. “Huh. I don’t talk to myself! Where’d he get that idea?” Pulling off his tie, Ianto wandered into the bedroom. “He’s nuts if he thinks I talk to myself.” He stripped off the rest of his clothes, hung his suit up and crawled into bed, pulling off his bluetooth earpiece and placing it on the bedside cabinet. “I’d know if I talked to myself,” he muttered, closing his eyes and pulling the covers over his head. “Now I’m going to be thinking about that all day.” His words were muffled by the covers, but still clearly audible.

Silence fell over the bedroom, broken only by a soft snore, and that was the last anyone heard from Ianto Jones for the rest of the day.

The End


End file.
